


The Marauders Go to a Muggle Punk Show

by Quipplepunk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Concerts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Punk, Punk Rock, Song Lyrics, Spanish Love Songs, at a Bar, free throw, losers - Freeform, on a turntable, riding broomsticks, sitting on a roof, the corner's dilemma, the interrupters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipplepunk/pseuds/Quipplepunk
Summary: It's their last year at school. Voldemort is on the rise. Everyone is trying their best to maintain normalcy. So, the Marauders go to a muggle bar to watch amateur punk bands. There's a lot of tension between Sirius and Remus. Then there's a lot of tension between James, Sirius, and Peter. And there's a lot of tension between Sirius and Remus, again.
Relationships: Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

“Why?” Peter whined. “Why can’t we just go to the Seaside Ballroom?”

“Because, Wormy,” Sirius smirked, “the grades are in and the ‘C’ side is now more like the ‘D’ side.”

Peter twisted around on the back of James’s broom to look at Sirius. “Deeside?” he said. “What’s a deeside?”

Seeing Remus’s face, James laughed, “You roll your eyes any harder, Moony, and you’ll send Sirius’s broom into a tailspin!”

“Never!” As he shot up on a terrifying incline, Sirius hollered, “I’ve got nothing but control over this magic sweep stick!” Remus swore under this breath. Sirius’s long hair was whipping around and stinging Remus’s skin, but he didn’t dare loosen his grip on Sirius to protect his face. “Hold on, Remus!” Sirius shouted as he turned the broom downward. They descended in spirals, then picked back up to do some loops, then plummeted downward again.

“Enough already, Sirius!” Remus growled in Sirius’s ear.

“Awh, come on, Moony. You love it,” Sirius said. A bug got caught in his teeth and he didn’t notice.

Very, very carefully, with determination and purpose, agility and dexterity, Remus reached into his coat and pulled out his wand. “Immobulus,” Remus hissed, aiming his wand at the straw end of the broom.

The broom sputtered and jolted. “What the fuck?” Sirius said under his breath. Then, Sirius, Remus, and the broom started to freefall.

Remus gripped his wand so tight that he nearly broke it. Sirius flapped his arms and legs wildly, attempting to propel himself over to his broom. “Accio!” Remus shouted, though the wind stole the sound of his voice. The broom glided over to him. He grabbed it, aimed his wand, and said, “Vindictus Viridian.” The broom sprung to life, slowing its fall to a hover as Remus struggled to mount it.

“Remus!” Sirius screamed, again and again. He shouted himself hoarse. Remus never heard him, though, as the sound did not carry.

Once seated on the broom, Remus cast a spell once more, “Arresto Momentum.” Sirius’s fall slowed and Remus descended towards Sirius. He reached out and pulled Sirius onto the broom behind him.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sirius wheezed. “What the hell happened?” As they landed, Sirius added, “That was bloody brilliant spell work though, Moony.” The pair dismounted. Sirius was shaking and pale. He sat down on the ground, but he found himself too wobbly still, so he laid back in the grass. Remus took slow, deep breaths.

After a few moments passed, Remus stepped over the Sirius. He stood over Sirius for a beat, and just before Sirius finished formulating a smart-mouthed remark, Remus bent down to one knee next to him. He looked Sirius dead in the eye and said, “How do you like it, being left at the mercy of a madman?”

Sirius blinked a few times, frowning, his forehead wrinkling, eyebrows twitching. Remus did not break his deadpan stare. “D- d- did… did you…” Sirius stuttered.

Remus blinked. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and offered his hand to Sirius. Slowly, Sirius put his still-shaking hand in Remus’s and was pulled to his unsteady feet. Remus stalked over to the broom and said, “Up.” The broom smacked into his hand. Remus turned sharply and threw the broom to Sirius, who caught its handle, but just barely.

Remus was glaring at Sirius. Sirius was staring at Remus with a gaping mouth. Then Sirius drew in a big breath, his face growing red. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. With every heartbeat, the vein in his temple swelled just a bit bigger. He opened his mouth to scream when –

“Locomotor Wibbly,” Remus cast, almost casually. Sirius’s legs turned to jelly. Remus’s glare melted away and he started to laugh.

“Why, you-” Sirius roared, fishing around in the many pockets of his coat. “Finite,” Sirius spit out once he located his wand. He sprung to his feet and shouted, “Expelliarmus!”

“Protego,” Remus said. The red stream from Sirius’s wand was blocked by a flash of white light from Remus’s. “Rictusempra!” Remus said, this time with gusto. Sirius cast the shield charm Remus used, but a fraction of a second too late. He was hit by a weakened version of the tickling charm Remus had cast. Remus fired off his next spell, “Petrificus Totalus.”

Sirius’s body froze, lost balance, and fell over with a soft thump. Remus walked over to Sirius, righted him and said, “You’re not the only one that can take stupid risks. But the least you can do is take stupid risks by yourself, and not string along anyone else. Don’t fuck around on your broom with me – or anyone else – on the back of it ever again. Or next time, I’ll cast Furnunculus right after the jell-legs jinx. Not even you would look handsome with tentacles sprouting out of your face, my dear Padfoot.” Once he was sure Sirius was steady, he stepped back. “Oh, and you have a bug in your teeth. Finte.”

Remus turned around and walked back to the broom as Sirius unfroze and found his bearings. Sirius took a few quick breaths and opened his mouth to talk, but found himself without any sort of retort or threat. So he puffed out his chest, tossed his hair over his shoulder and strutted over to Remus, picking his teeth. The two mounted the broom once again, Sirius in front.

James and Peter, who had taken a much straighter flight path, watched Remus and Sirius descend gently onto the ground. “What took you so long?” Peter wailed as the two approached.

“Enjoying the fresh air, Peter,” Remus said coolly.


	2. Chapter 2

“Deflectere,” Sirius said, tapping his broom with his wand. It turned almost invisible, taking on the exact color and texture of tree it was leaning on.

“But now there’ll be a long line at the door,” Peter responded to Remus.

“Don’t worry about that,” James said. “We’ll get in. We have tickets.”

“When did you have time to come all the way out here to get tickets?” Peter asked.

“Sirius got them.” James smirked and shrugged.

“Oh, cool,” Peter said, sliding in between Sirius and James as the four walked down the sidewalk. “What’s this place called again?”

“The Grop Shop.” James smiled widely.

“More importantly,” Remus said, “where is it, exactly?”

They all walked a few yards, each taking glances at Sirius, who was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched. James reached over Peter’s head, gently pulled on 

Sirius’s hair and said, “Padfoot. Where is this place?”

Sirius pursed his lips and shoved his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans. “Up this way, around the bend a little.”

“What’re you so grumpy about?” James said.

“Yeah, are you ok, Sirius?” Peter asked.

Sirius clenched his jaw shut again and glared at the ground as they walked. Remus said, “He’s just a sore loser, is all.” The smallest smile flashed across Remus’s face. He looked away from the group to hide it.

“Lost what?” Peter asked. “What game were you playing?”

“The Grop Shop!” James announced, spreading his arms wide as if he was going to embrace the overhang where the neon lit sign was perched. Sirius shot an arm across Peter’s stomach and jabbed James in the ribs. James tucked his arms in quickly and stumbled a little from the shock.

“What game was it?” Peter asked again.

“Easy there, Prongs,” Remus chuckled. “Don’t want them to think you’re already drunk. They might not let us in, then.”

“What game, Padfoot?” Peter asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes and strode to the front of the group. They didn’t have to wait long to make it to the door. “$15 cover. Because of the show tonight,” said a plump woman sitting on a barstool with a cashbox on her lap.

“Paid ahead of time,” Sirius said, presenting the tickets to her.

The woman took the tickets without looking at them. “Sweetie, we don’t sell tickets. Sorry, this has happened to a lot of young people lately.” Sirius blushed and stared at her with his mouth hanging open. “$15 cover.”

“Uhm,” Remus said, pushing his way past James, Peter, and Sirius. “Had a feeling this was going to happen,” he said softly to the woman. He pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and handed the woman a stack of bills. She nodded and ushered the four through the door, stamping their hands as they went.

With squinted eyes and arms folded across his chest, Peter asked Remus, “Where’d you get all of that money?”

“Yeah, Moony, seriously. Thanks, but I’m sorry you had to do that. I would have paid for it, you know. But I didn’t bring any gold,” James said quickly.

“Wouldn’t’ve done any good if you did,” Sirius said. James looked at Sirius and raised an eyebrow. “It’s wizard’s gold.” James tipped his head to one side, eye brow raising higher. “They wouldn’t accept it.” James slowly looked from Sirius to Remus and back again. “Muggles have their own money, you ignoramus.”

James’s mouth dropped open and he blinked wide eyes a few times. Peter stepped close to Remus and said, “How did you have that much money?"

“Been saving it,” Remus said quietly. “Just in case Sirius’s punk obsession got him into trouble, you know what I mean?” He shrugged.

“We better find a good place to watch,” Sirius said. Seeing that James was still deep in thought and bewilderment, Sirius grabbed the front of James’s shirt and pulled him along for a few steps. Peter and Remus followed.

Though it was packed with people, there really wasn’t a bad place to watch the stage. The space was small enough that if someone stood center stage and sprayed a garden hose, everyone in the room would get soaked. The ceiling was low and there were cob webs blowing around in the vents circulating the sour smell of body odor mixed with the breath of unbrushed teeth drinking cheap beer.

A drummer and a guitarist walked out on stage so nonchalantly that they could have been coming out of their bedrooms and walking to the kitchen table after sleeping half the day way. Without hesitation, the guitarist grabbed the mic and started singing, “My fridge ain't broken,” then started playing a simple chord progression while the drummer tapped a steady beat. “But my beer ain't cold. My body's aching, I'm not even old. Police are coming.” The drummer joined in the singing, “But I did nothing wrong. And I sit here singing. But I don't have a song.”

The beat picked up and the musicians played with passion. The room’s attention was fully on the stage and the crowd started to cheer. 

“Never had much, grew up with nothing  
But the music always meant something  
I've been down and out  
I've been on top of the world  
The world that keeps on spinning on a turntable

“Don't have a room, but I'm not homeless  
I'm filled with doubt, but I'm not hopeless  
The stakes are up, but I got nothing at stake  
Got a wounded heart, but it won't break

“Never had much, grew up with nothing  
But the music always meant something  
I've been down and out  
I've been on top of the world  
The world it keeps on spinning on a turntable  
On a turntable, on a turntable, on a turntable”

The guitarist played a short solo. The room let out a new, louder burst of cheers and applause. Peter’s hollers blended in with the rest and he was lost in the hyped up energy of the place. Sirius studied the guitarist’s hand movements with growing awe.

“Traveled the world, but been nowhere  
All I do is worry, but I got no cares  
And I drink too much, but still feel sober  
This record plays over and over

“Never had much, grew up with nothing  
But the music always meant something  
I've been down and out  
I've been on top of the world  
The world it keeps on spinning on a turntable  
On a turntable, on a turntable, on a turntable  
Keep on spinnin'  
Yeah keeps on spinnin'  
It keeps on spinnin'  
Yeah!”

The band played two more songs then graciously conceded the stage. When the MC asked what their band was called, the guitarist said, “We don’t know yet. My name’s Aimee and the drummer is Jessie.” The crowd murmured excitedly as three boys, a few years older than James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter, set up on stage. The band’s name was Love Losers. The guitarist started with a quick paced, repetitive riff. Drums and a keyboard followed. The three musicians traded off singing every few lines.

“Well, we're gonna waste the days Getting outpriced of our apartments  
Hoping we don't go homeless  
We sure as shit ain't moving home  
Watching television  
We're stealing from our parents  
So many opinions on how we live  
But there's no option for even how to get out of bed”

The song picked up in pace and in volume. The three band members yelled the chorus with deep conviction. Peter bounced around to the rhythm and bumped into a few people in the crowd. They smiled at him widely and threw arms around him. Peter jumped and swayed with them. 

“My bleak mind says it's cheaper just to die  
The prick inside my head's laid off and daring me to try  
My bleak mind says this is all you get  
Hoping all this time, but all you'll find is  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?

“Won't see the doctor  
Until I'm down on my knees  
Blacking out in strip malls to avoid  
Taking care of what's in front of me  
So I'll live my life off points  
From credit card financing  
You'll stay stuck losing your jobs  
Let's watch these options pile up  
Or let's ask for help?

“My bleak mind says it's cheaper just to die  
The prick inside my head's laid off and daring me to try  
My bleak mind says this is all you get  
Hoping all this time, but all you'll find is  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?”

The song slowed pace dramatically. The band members looked solemn and played even more softly than when they began. As the verse progressed, so did the volume. Sirius’s eyes were fixed on the keyboard. His gaze flitted from key stroke to pedal to key stroke. 

“We replaced my broken mattress  
With another hand me down  
Talking nightly about nothing  
Feels like giving up somehow  
Haven't we faced enough  
To know this is how it goes?  
We're mediocre, we're losers forever  
We're losers forever”

The guitarist powered through a solo. It was intense, fast. Peter and his new friends were caught up in it. Many of the people in the crowd had long hair and they tossed it about, not caring if they knocked heads or smacked people in the face with their locks. James scoffed and shook his slightly when the band re-entered the chorus. The singers’ voices had a lot of vibrato and when they yelled into the mic, they were straining so hard that it looked like their eyes were going to pop out of their heads. Remus wore a very serious, concentrated face and nodded along to the beat. 

“My bleak mind says it's cheaper just to die  
The prick inside my head's laid off and daring me to try  
My bleak mind says it's cheaper just to die  
The prick inside my head's laid off and daring me to try  
My bleak mind says this is all you get  
Hoping all this time, but all you'll find is  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?  
It gets harder, doesn't it?”

Peter came back over to stand next to Sirius for the band’s next two songs. The band tried to play a fourth song, but the MC chased them off the stage. “Damn, those songs were long,” James said to Remus, who was leaning against the wall with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. Remus nodded. “You ok?” James asked. Remus nodded again.

It wasn’t long until the next band was ready. Five members – Cory, Kevin, Ken, Chris, and Cal – made up the Quintuple Crown. “Let’s get closer,” Sirius said. He didn’t wait for the others to weave through the crowd towards the stage. Moving around the room wasn’t as hard anymore, as many of the people left while the previous band was playing. When James, Peter, and Remus found Sirius, he was standing right next to the speakers in the corner of the short stage.

When the band started to play, about half of the people left in the room ignored them and chose to stay close to the bar. The guitar intro was the most sophisticated progression performed so far that evening. James rolled his eyes when he heard the singer yell into the mic for the opening the lines.

“A room full of people, too anxious to mingle  
My brain yells at me, ‘It's the perfect time  
To get existential, your body’s a rental’  
Push back, tell myself that I'm just fine  
More people show up, I think I might throw up  
Go out for some fresh air to clear out my mind  
There's more people out there, this shit is a nightmare  
I wanna go home, but I’ll piss off my ride”

The other band members sang in unison, “So I'll just keep drinking,” before the lead guitarist screamed:

“And hope for the best  
Let my brain do the rest  
Man, fuck it, whatever, I guess”

The song took a turn and in a sincere, earnest tone, the guitarist sang:

“Sometimes I think I've wasted my whole life  
Chasing my pipe dreams with shots and a whole lot of beer  
A part of me figures there's no fight left in the shell of a person I became this year”

As the guitarist played a solo, James raised his eye brows and nodded along. Sirius studied the guitarist’s hands like his life depended on memorizing every note, every movement, every strum. Peter glanced over his shoulder to see the crowd from the bar had turned their attention to the stage and the people he had danced with earlier in the night were showing the stamps on their hands to the woman at the door. He waved them over. When the guitarist started singing again, James leaned towards him slightly.

“Fuck, is that the first place I go?  
Why can't I, for one night, let this roll off my shoulders?  
Damn, this is bleak  
I know I'm not this weak  
I thought people got wiser when older?

“Then again, I think I've wasted my whole life  
Chasing my pipe dreams with shots and a whole lot of beer  
A part of me figures there's no fight left in the shell of a person I became this year  
I wonder if my parents know why I’m a recluse and I don’t leave my house on most days  
When my friends ask if I’m all right, I lie straight to their faces and say I'm okay

“I just want to be a normal person  
Or anything but me”

Sirius almost tore his eyes away from the guitar for just one moment, but didn’t quite commit to turning his head away. Remus’s eyes were bloodshot. He swallowed and swallowed, but his mouth was still dry. James saw Remus in his peripheral and put a hand his shoulder for a moment. Remus nodded at James. 

“Stuck in a room full of people, too anxious to mingle  
My brain yelling that ‘it’s the perfect time  
To get existential, your body's a rental  
And something is wrong, I think you might be dying’”

The rest of the band members sang, “Oh, no. I just want to be a normal person. Or anything but me.” During every line for the rest of the song, they sang, “Oh, no. Oh, no.” The crowd swayed together and sang along, “Oh, no. Oh, no.” Peter was once again taken up in the power of the moment, his sweaty arms around the people he met that evening. James watched Remus out the corner of his eye. 

“To think that I've wasted my whole life chasing my pipe dreams with shots and a whole lot of beer  
A part of me knows that there's no fight left in the shell of a person I became this year  
To think that I’ve wasted my whole life chasing my pipe dreams with shots and a whole lot of beer  
A part of me knows that there's no fight left in the shell of a person I became this year  
To think that I've wasted my whole life chasing my pipe dreams with shots and a whole lot of beer  
A part of me knows that there's no fight left in the shell of a person I became this year”

The band silenced their instruments in unison. The crowd took a collective breath of the stuffy air. Then the lead singer said, “I think that I've wasted my whole life.” The room resounded with applause and cheers. Remus even smiled.

The band tried to exit the stage after playing three songs, but the room chanted, “One more song!” Even the MC and the woman at the door joined in. So, the band played another song. Before Quintuple Crown left the stage, the band following them started chanting, “Encore! Encore!” It wasn’t hard to get the rest of the room to join. The band played one last song with the stipulation that they were not going to play anymore, since they had only actually practiced the four they had already played and were going to play the fifth, and last, on the hope that everyone in the room would sing with them. They played a cover of Play That Funky Music by Wild Cherry. And everyone did, indeed, sing with them.

“Nothing’s going to top that tonight,” Sirius said, turning and facing Remus and James. “Want to go?”

“Yeah, I do,” Remus said, trying to sound casual. “James?”

“Yeah, my legs kind of hurt. I hate standing so long,” James said. “Where’s Peter?”

The three scanned the crowd and spotted Peter in a far corner, sitting in a young woman’s lap. “Agh, Pete,” Sirius scorned. He strode across the room, grabbed Peter by the collar, and dragged him to the door. James and Remus followed suit.

The woman wasn’t sitting on her stool and a couple slipped into the bar as James and Remus exited. James smirked hearing the woman from the door talking to an old man with tattoos behind the bar. “Why do you still let them play here? Those wankers chase everybody away.”

Peter trailed after Sirius, grinning and humming off key. Sirius took in a slow, deep breath through his nose and said, “Godrick, this night air is heavenly.” He let out the rest of the breath in a satisfied sigh. He smiled at Peter and hummed Play That Funky Music along with him.

James chuckled and said, “Hey, Wormtail. So, uh, you figure muggles aren’t that bad after all, huh?”

Peter stopped short and swung around to face James. “What? What do you mean?”

Smirking, James said, “What do you mean ‘what’? You were sitting on that muggle’s lap right before we left!”

“Well… well… well, yeah,” Peter stuttered. He bounded after James. “But I would never… It’s not like I was… I- I- I-”

“And you were singing and dancing with those other muggles before that,” Sirius chimed in. He pulled Peter between him and James, flopping a heavy arm across his shoulders.

“Well, yeah. It was fun. We were just having fun. It’s not like we were… I don’t, like, I don’t know, like…”

“You don’t, like, what, Wormtail?” James prodded Peter in the side. Peter’s jolt and subsequent swinging fist set him and Sirius off balance. They stumbled for a few steps. Sirius shot James a sly smile before he turned on Peter, grabbing the stretched out hem of Peter’s sweatshirt and roughly flipping it up over Peter’s head. James booted Peter on the butt and he stumbled forward, falling on his knees. Peter wildly punched the air and grunted out curses and half-baked threats as Sirius and James circled him, laughing and poking him on occasion.

“Ok, guys, that’s enough,” Remus said dryly. James and Sirius paid him no mind until second floor windows in houses on the street started to illuminate. “You’re waking up all the muggles!” Remus hissed. Sirius and James stopped taunting Peter and whirled around, wide eyed. Remus pulled the shirt off of Peter’s head and helped him to his feet. Peter’s face was red and his eyes were puffy. He wore a deep frown. “You ok, Wormtail?” Remus said softly. He stood back a step and scanned Peter up and down.

“Yeah,” Peter huffed. “I’m fine.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve and ran his hands through his messed up hair.

Remus bent down and brushed some dirt off of Peter’s pants. “They sure get carried away sometimes, don’t they?” he mumbled.

“You’re telling me,” Peter’s voice faltered, but just slightly.

“Let’s get out of here,” James said, glancing from lit window to porch light to lit window, up and down the street.

James and Sirius walked quickly side-by-side to an enormous elm tree in the corner of a vacant lot. Remus followed suit, Peter a half step behind him. Peter stepped on the back of Remus’s shoes a couple of times, but Remus ignored it.

In the beams of the flood lights fixed to a close-by telephone pole, the broom handles blended in to the coarse gray-brown ridges of the tree’s bark. The straw end of the brooms, however, stuck out in harsh contrast to the spring-green weeds sprouting around the base of the tree.

“Hm,” James said, grabbing his broom and examining the parts of it no longer under the disillusionment charm.

Sirius glared at his broom, nostrils flared. He scoffed, tapping the broom handle with his wand. “Renodo Deflectere.” What was left of the disillusionment charm faded away from his broom. He mounted the broom and said, “Come on, Moony.”

“I don’t think so,” Remus said, folding his arms across his chest.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t think so?’” Sirius said indignantly.

Peter peaked his head out from behind Remus. Remus said, “Give me your broom, Sirius. Peter and I will go back on your broom and you and James can take the other.”

James’s eyes were wide and his brow was wrinkled. He stood several steps away from the confrontation, holding very still. Sirius dismounted his broom and scowled at Remus. “Who do you think you are? I’m not letting you take-”

“Sirius,” Remus interrupted, holding up one hand. The two exchanged a few hard looks. Remus mouthed the word “madman.” Sirius sneered, his top lip turned upward, glower deepening. Sirius tossed his hair back and stood up straighter before tossing the broom to Remus.

Sirius stomped over to James. The pair quickly mounted the broom and whizzed off. James turned his head and spoke over his shoulder to Sirius, “What was that all about? What did he whisper to you?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius grumbled.

“Didn’t seem like nothing, mate.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s between me and Remus.”

James turned his head to speak a couple more times, but held his tongue and stopped himself from asking any more questions. His careful balance on the broom didn’t allow him to look at Sirius, but Sirius’s tense grip and huffy breathing was enough to discourage anyone from engaging in conversation with him.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Peter and Remus arrived back at Hogwarts, James and Sirius had already closed themselves up in their bed curtains. Peter and Remus quietly prepared for bed. When Peter finally scrambled into his bed, Remus changed back into his day clothes and put on his coat. He crawled out of the window, onto the eaves, and lowered himself down onto the roof of the castle.

Remus walked along the sloped surface and came to a flat section with large decorative turrets. He slid down the side of one of the stone sculptures, sitting on the roof. He took a deep breath. Along with the night air, he inhaled the dusty debris from the roof. He muffled his cough by hiding his whole head inside of his coat.

The few clouds in the sky carried a blueish tinge with deep purple streaking the wispy ends. Remus wondered how bright the stars were, in scientific terms, to be able to shine through the thin clouds. He thought about Astronomy and he thought about Astrology. He thought about how famous people were called stars and he thought about what qualified someone as being famous enough to be called a star. He wondered if any of the bands he heard play that night would ever become stars.

Remus thought about Aimee and Jessie, about what it would be like for them to become stars after growing up with nothing and being down and out. He wondered if they really did come from nothing or if it was just all a show. He doubted that the Love Losers were as suicidal as they seemed to be in their songs. Remus thought they sounded much too happy about hand-me-down mattresses and avoiding the doctor. He also thought himself a terrible person for judging people that were being so vulnerable as to exclaim to an audience that the voice in their head was daring them to die. He fully appreciated their revelation though; it just gets harder. Doesn’t it?

A high pitched squeak pulled Remus out of his head. He clenched his jaw, sure that one of his roommates woke up and closed the window he had jumped out of. As he chased a train of thought about how to get back in the castle without waking anyone, there was a soft, “oof,” and careful footsteps approaching.

Realizing he was no longer alone, Remus lifted his gaze just as Sirius appeared from behind a neighboring turret. He said nothing as he watched Sirius plop down and lean against the castle wall. Sirius pulled a lighter and cigarettes out of his pocket. Sirius brought the lighter up to the cigarette pinched between his lips, but then froze. Only his eyes raised to meet Remus’s.

Sirius relaxed, dropping his hands into his lap. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, Sirius said, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Sitting,” Remus said, shrugging.

Sirius put the cigarette back in his mouth. As he lit it, he mumbled, “Smart ass.”

Neither spoke for a few moments. Sirius took long drags, attempting to make smoke rings on the exhale. After a while, Sirius said, “I smelled you.” Remus twitched an eyebrow. Sirius continued, “That’s how I knew you were here. That soap you use on your hair smells like coconuts.” He took another long drag and spoke through the smoke coming out of his mouth, “Why were you hiding from me? And what the fuck are you doing out here?”

Remus tsked. “I wasn’t hiding. You just weren’t paying attention.”

Sirius looked at Remus for a long while. “Why have you been so horrible today?” he asked venomously.

Remus scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

Sirius snuffed out the butt of his cigarette on the roof roughly. “Oh, I’m one to talk? I’m not the one that attempted murder today!”

Remus smirked. The smile slowly melted off his face and regret settled deep in his core. Seeing that Sirius was looking at him still, Remus gave a half laugh and said, “Well, it was freezing. And we were above the clouds. And I was pissed off. And I knew that falling from that high up would take about 30 seconds or so before we hit the ground. And I figured…” Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “Now that I really think about it, that was, uh, yeah that was pretty stupid.”

“You think?!” Sirius yelled.

“Sirius!” Remus hissed. “It’s nearly 4:00 in the morning! You’ll wake everyone!”

“Yeah, like waking up people is a bigger deal than falling to our deaths just that you can make a fucking point!”

“Well,” Remus said, putting his head in his hands, “we didn’t actually die, so…”

There was a long pause. Then, Sirius started laughing. Remus slowly lifted his head. When he met Sirius’s twinkling eyes, Remus also started laughing. Before long, the two were rolling on the roof, clutching their stomachs as they cackled. They only stopped when a light flicked on above them. They dove into a shadow close up against the side of the castle as an annoyed face was pressed to the window above. They waited until the light turned off again before letting out snorted, muffled laughter. They leaned on each other, catching their breath.

“You know what I learned tonight, most of all?” Sirius said.

“What’s that, Padfoot?”

“I’m not, and never will be, actually, truly, really punk.”

Remus turned to face Sirius. “Uhm, why?”

“I’m not poor.”

“Well, no, you’re not,” Remus said, watching Sirius look up at the sky. Remus crawled back over to the turret he chose at the beginning of the night and leaned against it. “You know what I learned tonight?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to have the same type of sorry existence to come to the same sorry conclusions.”

Sirius’s eyebrows pinched together and a deep line appeared between them. “Remus… are you… uhm, are you ok?”

Remus snorted and looked away from Sirius. He felt blood rush to his face and was glad that there wasn’t enough light for Sirius to see his watery eyes. He swallowed hard a few times and said, “My brain yells ‘it’s time to get existential, your body's a rental, I think I might be dying.’” Sirius scooted across the roof and sat facing Remus squarely, knees touching knees. Before Sirius could decide just what to say, Remus sang, “To think that I've wasted my whole life… A part of me knows that there's no fight left in the shell of a person I became this year.” Remus let out one, small, quiet sob. Sirius reached out and put a hand on Remus’s shoulder.

“Moony, mate, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Remus wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“For, like, I don’t know. Sorry that you feel like… I guess that I’m sorry that I haven’t done a good enough job of making you feel, I don’t know, better, I guess.”

Remus laughed through his nose and gently pushed Sirius’s hand off of his shoulder. “It’s whatever.”

Sirius stared at his hands in his lap and inched just a tad closer to Remus, pressing their knees together more firmly. “Did hearing the music help or make things worse?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said. “I think maybe a little of both.”

“Well, if you think it’d help, maybe we could write our own songs.”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, what an idea. We’re not even musicians.”

“We could learn, though.”

“You’re serious?”

“Always.”

Remus flicked his hand toward Sirius. “I mean, you’re not joking?”

“No, I’m not joking.”

Remus leaned away from Sirius, flattening himself on the stone behind him. “You can do whatever you want, but I’m no punk rocker.”

“You’re more punk than me."

“Oh yeah? And why’s that? Because I’m poor?” Sirius blinked and broke eye contact with Remus for a moment. Remus narrowed his eyes and said, “You’re such an ass.”

“Nooo,” Sirius whined. He flopped backwards and sprawled his limp arms outward. “I’m just… I don’t know.” He sat back up and said, “I’ve been through shit. But I’ve never gone without, and even now that my parents, like, hate me, I’ve never had a hand-me-down. And that’s like, so much of what punk is about. But I’ve felt, like, empty, and bleak, and like I might be dying. Which is, like, the other half of being punk. So I thought that maybe, together, we could really be actually real punk.”

By the end of Sirius’s explanation, Remus’s face was slack with his mouth hanging open a bit. Sirius gave Remus an awkward smile that made Remus laugh. “You’re already punk enough without me, you goofball.” Remus nudged Sirius. Sirius nudged Remus back.

“Hey,” Sirius said. “I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you so defensive of Peter after he was being such a dick about muggles tonight?”

Remus cocked his head to one side, eyebrows raised. “Why were you and James being so horrible to him?”

“Awh,” Sirius batted his hand at Remus. He slid back a couple of inches. “We were just goofing off. He was being a dick. We weren’t hurting him.” Remus clenched his jaw and said nothing. “You never answered my question, though, Moony,” Sirius said, lightly back handing Remus on the chest.

Remus sighed deeply through his nose and rubbed the back of neck. “What’s the point in taunting him? That’s not going to make him change his mind.”

“But doesn’t it bother you?”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a- Remus. Are you serious? Moldy Voldy is out there right now, gathering armies of purebloods like Peter’s family, all to wipe out muggles! Muggles like your mom!” Remus flinched. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Sirius flushed and scooted back over to the castle wall.

They sat in silence, watching the clouds race across the sky. When dawn broke, they stood and shuffled back to the overhang under the window to their dorm. “Levicorpus,” Remus cast without any warning. He gently guided Sirius to the ledge. Once inside, Sirius leaned out the window and levitated Remus.

“Tell me you don’t hate me,” Sirius said, rising Remus a little higher than the ledge.

“Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus sputtered. “Put me down.”

Sirius lowered Remus slightly, but did not let his feet touch the eaves. Spell still holding, Sirius said, “Tell me that you don’t hate me.”

“What? Uh, I don’t hate you.” Sirius let Remus touch down on the roof. He blocked Remus from climbing through the window. “Sirius, this isn’t funny.”

“It’s also not funny when we end conversations on bad terms, Moony. I get all nervous that you hate me and then I’m just mad until we talk again. I can’t stand another day of not getting along right after we argued last night. Just tell me you don’t hate me.”

“I did tell you that I don’t hate you.”

“No,” Sirius strained his voice. He swallowed hard and said, “You have to mean it.”

“Lemme in.” Sirius allowed Remus to pass through the window. Remus closed the squeaky window. He turned to Sirius and said, “I don’t hate you. And I don’t hate Peter. Or James. Or even Severus. I don’t hate people, Sirius.”

Sirius blocked Remus from walking to his bed. “Well, fine, then. But do you like me? No, I mean, are you mad at me?”

Remus put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “I’m not mad at you.” He gave Sirius’s shoulder a light squeeze then walked over to his bed and rummaged through his trunk. Sirius crawled on to his own bed and wrestled with the sheets. “Here,” Remus said. He tossed a guitar pick onto Sirius’s bed. It got lost in the folds of Sirius’s blankets. Once Sirius found it, he held it up close to his eyes, gazing at it in awe. Remus grinned and said, “Look at that. You’re first hand-me-down.”


End file.
